<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Fun Sized SVT by down4pizza</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27900961">Fun Sized SVT</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/down4pizza/pseuds/down4pizza'>down4pizza</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Feelings Realization, Fights, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Up, Protective Siblings, Siblings HoonSeokChan, Sickfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:41:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27900961</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/down4pizza/pseuds/down4pizza</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>From the latest chapter:<br/>
Hoshi x Wonwoo</p><p>—<br/>
</p><p>Soon&lt;3 sends a picture</p><p>&gt;oh my makeup isnt too bad it’s holding up<br/>
&gt;10/10 would bang</p><p>lol y r u the one scoring&lt;</p><p>&gt;r u saying u disagree</p><p>i didn’t say that&lt;<br/>
ur selfie skills need work tho&lt;</p><p>&gt;ok<br/>
&gt;wow<br/>
&gt;the disrespect</p><p>———————————————————<br/>
A SEVENTEEN drabble collection</p><p>For the meantime this will be marked complete, but more will be added periodically.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Chwe Hansol | Vernon/Lee Chan | Dino, Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Jeon Wonwoo/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi &amp; Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Chan | Dino</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>147</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. S. Coups x Woozi (fluff, humor)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Gross.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon looked up from his phone and glared. “What,” he challenged. Wonwoo, to his credit, didn’t waver. “You were making googly eyes at your phone,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “You’re all sparkly and giggly and shit. It’s... disconcerting.” Jihoon threw a pen at him, which he expertly dodged.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fine then. Maybe I should just go back to ignoring him, since it bothers you so much,” Jihoon said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No!” Soonyoung shot up from his seat and Jun scrambled to clamp a hand over his mouth. Jihoon glanced over to see the librarian shooting daggers in their direction.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re killing me, Jihoon-ah. I worked so hard to get you and Seungcheolie-hyung together, you can’t do this to me,” Soonyoung said, pleading with his eyes. “Please just get married already. Wonwoo can go fuck right off.” “Rude,” Wonwoo pouted.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Soonyoung wrapped himself around Jihoon tightly. “Promise me you won’t ever break up with him, Jihoon-ah. Please be happy together forever, otherwise you’re gonna break my heart,” he said, ignoring Jihoon’s attempts to shove him away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who gives a fuck about <em>your</em> heart?,” Jihoon scowled. “This is creepy, why the hell are you so invested in my relationship. Go take care of your own, asshole.” Soonyoung muttered out a quiet “but I don’t have any to take care of,” right before Jihoon landed a solid elbow jab to his ribs. Soonyoung slunk back to his seat with a whine, and Jun just shook his head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You actually were making googly eyes, though,” Jun laughed, unhelpful as always. Jihoon wanted to smack Wonwoo’s vindicated smirk off of his face. He settled with kicking him under the table instead. “I didn’t know you could be so cute, Jihoon-ah. Love really does change people, I guess,” Jun said with a dramatic sigh. He and Wonwoo bursted into giggles like toddlers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon threw Soonyoung’s eraser this time, successfully hitting Wonwoo on the nose. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know why I’m still friends with you guys. You should be grateful I wasn’t outta here like an hour ago,” Jihoon scowled as he gathered his things. “Right. I’m leaving. If you don’t have your half of the project done by Tuesday I will kill you. Other than that text me if there’s anything missing from mine,” he said as he stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon’s phone suddenly vibrated and Wonwoo wiggled his eyebrows at him. One of these days he would really smack Wonwoo, Jihoon swore.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><em>&gt;ok<br/></em> <em>&gt;cant wait to see u soon<br/></em> <em>&gt;love u!</em></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon’s heart did a little backflip. He threw one last dirty look towards his friends and walked away, ignoring Soonyoung’s cheerful “have fun on your date, Jihoon-ah!” Once he was out of the library he allowed his steps to turn into a jog, then a run, then a sprint.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He saw Seungcheol standing in front of the coffeeshop and Jihoon ran to him, barreling into Seungcheol’s chest. “Hey you,” the older said with a grin, “miss me much?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Barely having caught his breath, Jihoon looked up at him and in lieu of greeting he blurted out, “I love you.” He was sure his face was all dopey and stupid and googly eyed, but he didn’t care. His friends were idiots and nothing else mattered but this moment, right here. “So much. You make me so happy,” he breathed out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Seungcheol wrapped his arms around Jihoon’s shoulders, pulling them closer together. “You make me happy too,” he said with a too gentle smile that made Jihoon forget his own name. That smile alone made all of it worthwhile. “I love you.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Hoshi x Wonwoo (humor)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is so embarrassing.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, tripping over and twisting your ankle in front of a bunch of grandmas on tour while trying to take a selfie was embarrassing. You could live with this,” Wonwoo said as he adjusted Soonyoung’s weight on his back. Soonyoung groaned.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was prime selfie location, Wonwoo-yah. You never post on instagram, you wouldn’t understand,” Soonyoung huffed. “Nope, I definitely don’t. Maybe I should’ve recorded you when you fell over instead. Or at least took a picture. Then finally I’ll have something to post and maybe I can understand how your brain works a little more,” Wonwoo said with a snicker, and Soonyoung smacked his shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why did you pick hiking for the first date anyway? You don’t do this regularly, right?” Wonwoo asked. “No fucking idea,” Soonyoung grumbled. “Seemed like a good idea at the time. Seungkwan went on a hike with his family last month, and he showed me all of the pretty pictures he took. I was so jealous! The gram will be the death of me one day, I swear.” Wonwoo let out a low whistle, “damn, I didn’t know you were in that deep. You alright? Should I stage an intervention?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Today was intervention enough,” Soonyoung deadpanned. “I think I learned my lesson there, thank you very much.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wonwoo bursted out laughing, not for the first time in the last hour. Soonyoung felt the rumble through Wonwoo’s back and in his own guts as he shook. “I’m glad at least one of us finds this amusing,” he grumbled. “Oh believe me, amusing is an understatement,” Wonwoo wheezed, “I really wish I have a video now, oh my god.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is a disaster. I was supposed to sweep you off your feet today. Not... this,” Soonyoung buried his face in his hands. “I wasn’t aware any kind of sweeping was in the itinerary today, but okay,” Wonwoo chuckled. “It’s fine, though. You didn’t actually fall on your face, even though I totally thought you would. That was impressive enough.” Soonyoung wanted to jump off his back and possibly also off of a cliff.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“By the way, aren’t you tired? You’ve been carrying me for what, ten minutes now?” Soonyoung asked. Wonwoo shrugged, “not really? You’re pretty light.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You sure? We can take a break, you know,” Soonyoung said. “It’s fine. We’re walking downhill anyway, it’s not that bad. Just sit back and enjoy the ride while it lasts, Soonyoung-ah. I know you’ve been feeling up my arms the whole time anyway.” Soonyoung choked on his own spit and Wonwoo—infuriating, smug, stupidly buff Wonwoo just laughed and kept on walking.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A text came later that evening when Soonyoung was icing his ankle.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s2">&gt;for what it’s worth, i really had a good time today. But let me pick the place next time ok? Get well soon! </span> <span class="s3">ᕦ</span> <span class="s2">(ò_óˇ)</span> <span class="s3">ᕤ</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Soonyoung’s eyes ran over the words </span> <span class="s2"><em>next time</em></span> <span class="s1"> over and over again. Today wasn’t a complete loss after all, so he nursed his ankle and his ego, and he’d be ready for the next one.</span></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Woozi x Wonwoo (hurt/comfort, light angst)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What am I gonna do with you?” Jihoon said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Leave, if you know what’s good for you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wonwoo tasted the regrets like poison the moment the words left his mouth. He heard the door slam and everything crumbled.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wonwoo called in sick to work and didn’t leave the apartment the next day. He barely ate, barely even moved from the couch. The TV was on, but Wonwoo wouldn’t be able to tell you what was on it the whole day. He tensed with every vibration of his phone. The name he was waiting for never showed up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He typed and deleted a message, over and over again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>&gt;I’m sorry, please come back</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">It sounded insincere, despite the desperation Wonwoo felt choking him. Words were never his forte, when it came to Jihoon. He was always tongue-tied— too nervous, too caught up in his own head, too in love. His </span> <em><span class="s2">thank you</span></em><span class="s1">s always sounded too light and his <em>I</em> </span><span class="s2"><em>love you</em></span><span class="s1">s insufficient.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His apologies sounded hollow.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And now his words would be the death of him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Night turned into dawn and Wonwoo fell into a short, uneasy sleep, having not sent a single one of them. It was the weekend the next day. Wonwoo didn’t leave the apartment that day, either. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked at his phone with equal parts hope and contempt. Still no messages. He scrolled to Jihoon’s name in his contacts and his finger hovered over the call button. He tried to formulate in his mind the things he needed to say, turning it over and over again, testing every syllable. None of it sounded right. Eventually the phone ended up on the floor and under the couch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wonwoo cried himself to sleep at nine p.m.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was just past midnight when Wonwoo stirred, feeling a gentle hand in his hair.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” he heard, as the hand moved down to his cheek. Wonwoo leaned into the touch and grazed Jihoon’s fingers with his. “Hey,” Wonwoo croaked out. “You’re here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon lifted the covers to lay down next to Wonwoo. Wonwoo automatically made space for him, melding around him. It made Wonwoo think about how there’s a Jihoon-shaped space in his life. If Jihoon left, he wouldn’t know how he’d ever be able to fill it up again. “If you ever say anything like that to me again I swear I will kill you,” Jihoon said. He sounded tired— of being angry, of being lonely. Wonwoo understood him completely. He nodded and thought that he didn’t deserve Jihoon. He said as much.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s for me to decide,” Jihoon said, “and I came back.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo muttered at last, “for everything.” It still wasn’t enough, but at least now he had Jihoon’s hand in his, and the way Jihoon looked at him made him just a little braver. Just him saying it was enough for a start.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He watched Jihoon’s eyelashes flutter close with a sigh and he finally tasted the antidote on his tongue. He draped an arm across Jihoon’s back and pulled him closer. Jihoon let him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re an idiot,” Jihoon said, but his fingers found Wonwoo’s and he squeezed tight. It felt like all the <em>I </em></span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>love you</em>
  </span>
  <span class="s1">s that were left unsaid. And that too, was enough.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Mingyu x The8 (Fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a slow Saturday, and Mingyu thinks nobody can blame him if he hasn’t moved from his spot on the bed since two hours ago. The air is cool, a light breeze drifting from the window. Minghao lays his head on Migyu’s belly as he reads, and Mingyu lets him, stroking his hair slowly, barely half awake. He’s perfectly comfortable.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mingyu cracks one eye open when Minghao’s phone buzzed, lazily registering the way Minghao felt around the bed for it before speaking. “Hello Dad. No, no, not busy. I can talk,”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It took a whole minute for the gears to click in Mingyu’s brain. Minghao is speaking to his dad... in Korean? “Yeah, I’m with Mingyu now,” Minghao says. Slowly Mingyu’s mind crawls out from its slumber with interest, and he listens in.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh-huh. No way, really?,” Minghao’s tone rises up in delight. “Send me pictures! Yes, of course! Oh, okay. Wait, let me ask him.” He turns away from the phone to look at Mingyu. “Your dad had a big catch while fishing today. He wants us to come by for dinner tomorrow. What time do you think we can go?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mingyu blinked once, then twice, then twice more for good measure. Minghao has tosmack him on the arm before he can give an answer. “Um, I’ll be finished at the gym by five, we can go right after,” he says dumbly. Minghao nods and relays the information to the phone.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, see you tomorrow then. Uh-huh. Okay, bye-bye,” Minghao says sweetly as he hangs up. The phone was dropped back onto the bed without a comment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That was my dad,” Mingyu deadpanned.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yup,” Minghao replied, going back to his book without sparing Mingyu a glance.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My dad just called you. To invite us to dinner.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes. That was what I said, wasn’t it?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But that’s my dad.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Minghao sits up and he’s now looking at Mingyu with equal parts curiosity and concern, like he’s suddenly grown another arm out of his forehead. “Yes, Mingyu. Your father. I don’t get wh—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why did he call you instead of me? Also, you call him Dad?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He told me to. Why? Are you jealous?” Minghao begins to smile that knowing smile, confident and a little smug, like he knows he’s always right.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mingyu huffs, “no, not jealous. Just, since when did you two get so close?” There’s a pause. “Hmm... not sure. We got along pretty quickly though,” Minghao says, then he knits his brows and adds, “it’s not a bad thing, though. Is it?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, no, definitely not,” Mingyu says, and Minghao’s eyes softens again. “It’s just... a bit weird? Well, not weird. I’m just... still trying to wrap my head around it, I guess.” Minghao laughs and pets Mingyu’s hair. “Just take it in stride, Mingyu-yah. It’ll only come in our favor when I ask him for your hand—“ and Minghao shuts his lips tight, eyes widening just a fraction like he just said something he shouldn’t. Mingyu’s brain stops.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nevermind,” Minghao finally says when Mingyu doesn’t say anything. “Forget I said anything. I know it’s too soon to even think—,” “Wait wait wait, no!” Mingyu scrambles to sit up and grabs both of Minghao’s hand.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’ve been doing this a lot lately, coming over to each other’s apartments to do everything and nothing together. Mingyu thinks about his closet where Minghao’s clothes claims a permanent spot in the second drawer, and the wine glasses in his cupboard that aren’t his, and how he always stocks up on Minghao’s preferred shampoo whenever he goes grocery shopping. Minghao knows the code to Mingyu’s door and Minghao’s cat basically recognizes Mingyu as her co-owner. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mingyu just realized that Minghao is wearing his sweatshirt right now; the one he’s been looking for this past week. It was probably left behind at Minghao’s, then.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re so disgustingly domestic together, he thinks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mingyu can’t think of a life where they aren’t.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t say that,” Mingyu whispers as he presses his forehead against Minghao’s. “Do that. Please. Anytime when you’re ready, it’ll be the right timing. I’ll wait, so please don’t take it back, okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Minghao sighs at last and he slumps down, as if all the tension was eased off of his shoulders. “Okay,” he whispers, and Mingyu smiles. Minghao glances up to meet his eyes and chuckles. “It’s not fair,” he says, shaking his head. “I can’t say anything else when you’re smiling all radiant like that. I guess I’m stuck with you forever now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good,” Mingyu grins and leans down for a kiss. “I’m yours forever.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Vernon x Dino (fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hansol doesn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t this.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Okay, actually it was exactly this. He knows this was coming, rehearsed it multiple times in his head, yet he feels wholly unprepared as the two sets of eyes stare him down at the door.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, hello. My name’s Chwe Hansol, I’m here to pick up Chan?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">Chan has told Hansol about his brothers before. Seokmin, the second, is the sweet one, he said. The type to pack your lunch with extra snacks and sit by your bed when you’re sick. A doting brother with the personality of the sun itself.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The Seokmin in front of Hansol is different, though. Instead of the warm, welcomed morning sun, Hansol was reminded of the beating rays in the peak of summer— intense, inescapable, burning. He’s nothing short of intimidating, from the set of his jaws to his furrowed brows, and Hansol has to wonder how much detail Chan was ommitting.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then Hansol’s eyes inadvertently went to the other brother, and he immediately regretted it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon, the eldest Lee sibling, stands there barricading the door with his arms crossed, and Hansol wants to hide. “He just looks fluffy, but you do not want to mess with him,” Chan told him, and Hansol had laughed. He’s not laughing now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon is half a head shorter than Hansol, yet he’s convinced the older was fully capable of breaking every bone in his body, should the need arise. He’ll happily do it too, Hansol thinks. Hansol feels incredibly small, and if he wasn’t scared out of his mind like prey he’d have half a mind to laugh at the irony of it. His palms are sweating and he really wished Chan hadn’t downplayed the danger he now found himself in.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon doesn’t even look fluffy, what the hell. His sleeveless top reveals perfectly muscular arms, and Hansol has no doubt the rest of him is built like a tank too.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hansol himself is the oldest of two, so he fully understands the protective streak one might have towards their younger siblings. He also understands that the worst course of action right now is to back off, to turn tail and run from the fight, even if winning isn’t a possibility. So he stands his ground. Feet planted firmer, back a little straighter, his eyes steadily holding Jihoon’s gaze.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon’s lips curl up ever so slightly at the corners, and Hansol thinks he might faint.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god, I told you not to do that, hyung!” He hears Chan grumble as he suddenly appears and shoves past his brothers. Hansol lets out a breath he doesn’t know he was holding. “Sorry to make you wait,” Chan grabs his arm and smiles sweetly, before quickly pressing a peck to his cheek. Hansol immediately feels shivers run down his spine as Jihoon and Seokmin glare at him with ice cold murder in their eyes. He manages to bow just as Chan starts to pull him away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Chan-ah,” Jihoon calls, warning in his tone. “I know, hyung. Curfew. You worry too much!” Chan replies behind his shoulders and waves his brothers goodbye. Hansol silently thanks him when he doesn’t stop walking.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I thought I was gonna die,” Hansol says when they’re finally safely out of sight and way out of earshot. Chan laughs, but doesn’t offer any sympathies.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a challenge, Hansol realizes. He needs to earn his place next to Chan, and the ordeal has just begun. “I’ll buy the popcorn this time,” Chan offers instead, grinning. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s a good sign, right? Stage 1, cleared.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hansol slips his fingers between Chan’s and grins back, swaying their hands a little. If he died trying, that wouldn’t be so bad either.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Woozi x Wonwoo (fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wonwoo stared at the thermometer in his hand. 38.6, it read. Jihoon plucked it away and looked at it, frowning. He handed Wonwoo a pill and a cup of water and Wonwoo took it. A wince came involuntarily as he felt his throat burning, just from swallowing a small sip. Not a good sign.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The moment you get above 39 I’m taking you to the doctor,” Jihoon said as he took the cup back. Wonwoo nodded and he let Jihoon gently push him back to lie down. As much as he wanted to avoid the hospital bills, he really didn’t have the energy to resist. He groaned, feeling his heavy limbs sink into the mattress. Jihoon’s eyes followed every twitch, and the frown never left his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You called the manager already, right?” Jihoon asked, and Wonwoo nodded. “Good,” Jihoon said. He picked up Wonwoo’s phone from the nightstand and dangled it in front of Wonwoo’s face. “I’m confiscating this for now,” he said, swiftly snatching it away and pocketing it when Wonwoo tried to make a grab for it. “I’m not letting anyone bother you about work. Also, I don’t trust you. You’re just gonna play games and not sleep if this is left within reach,” he looked at Wonwoo a little accusingly, and Wonwoo could only shrug in response.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’d put up more of a fight, but his track record was stacked against him. Jihoon caught him one too many times playing games way into dawn, even when he was sick or tired.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Still, even with the odds against him, that doesn’t mean Wonwoo wouldn’t try. He looked up to meet Jihoon’s eyes, and he mustered the best pout his 24 years old self could muster.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon didn’t budge. He was a man of principle after all, and definitely not bribeable with batted eyelashes and a cute pout. One (unimpressed, if not slightly amused) look, and Wonwoo knew he’d lost. “I’m keeping your Switch too, so don’t even think about it,” Jihoon said, and that was that.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sleep will soothe the sting of defeat, Wonwoo decided. He wiggled under the blanket, trying to get to a comfortable position. An impossible task, it seemed, because his every joint ached and the throbbing in his head only grew worse. </span>
</p><p class="p2">“Stop squirming around and sleep,” Jihoon muttered as he gingerly eased Wonwoo’s glasses off of his face and placed it on the nightstand. It was sweet, Wonwoo thought, and lamented that he was in too much agony to actually enjoy the rare occurrence of Jihoon doting on him. “I’ll order some food. Do you want chicken soup or porridge?”</p><p class="p2">“I want you,” Wonwoo replied with a hoarse voice and hoped his wink wasn’t mistaken for a wince. It might’ve looked like a mini seizure instead, though. Whatever, it was the intention that counts, he thought.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon rolled his eyes, but there was a softness in his voice that betrayed him. “And here I thought you’re gonna be better behaved while you’re sick. Nevermind, then.” Wonwoo responded with a grin and weak fingerguns. “That’s not a no,” he said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Another roll of the eyes. “Whatever, stop talking,” Jihoon shook his head before tenderly placing a hand over Wonwoo’s eyes, closing them. “Sleep,” he said.</span>
</p><p class="p2">Wonwoo peeked an eye back open and caught him by the wrist. “Stay? Please?”</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon sighed deeply, and when his eyes met Wonwoo’s they were gentle and, dare Wonwoo say, fond. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he pressed his lips tightly instead. It made Wonwoo felt a weird twisting in his guts and a clench in his chest, both unrelated to the stomach bug. There was a warmth that spread from his chest all the way to his fingertips, but not from the fever. Or maybe they were, it’s hard to tell. God, he hated being sick, it made feelings ten times harder than it already was. Especially when it came to Jihoon, which already was like playing in hard mode in the first place.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His internal ramblings were stopped when Jihoon pried his hand away, only to walk around the bed and laid down on his side, facing Wonwoo. He kept some distance, but he reached out and linked a finger to Wonwoo’s pinky.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wonwoo curled his fingers and sighed. He closed his eyes and imagined Jihoon’s finger like an anchor— a solid, grounding presence through the lightest touch. He almost didn’t hear the soft voice that said, “sleep tight. I’ll still be here when you wake.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Wonwoo mumbled a soft “thanks” just as his consciousness drifted away, and he might’ve felt Jihoon’s finger curl in even closer. With one final sigh, he slipped into the embrace of dreamless sleep.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Mingyu x The8 (fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So you put it on your palm like this, and I’m gonna spoon the meat in. Here you go. And then take your thumb and one finger, and you pinch it. Like this, see? Small pinches all the way around.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like this? Oh... it tore.” The dumpling in Mingyu’s hand was now sporting a hole on the bottom. Minghao plucked it from his hand and laughed. “That’s because you rolled it out too thin. Try another one,” he said as he placed a new ball of dough in front of Mingyu.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ten minutes in and Mingyu wanted to pull his hair out already. It seemed like an excellent idea yesterday. Minghao was craving some dumplings, the way they were made in his hometown, so why not make them themselves, right? It’ll be a great bonding activity, Mingyu had thought. Besides, he was confident enough in his cooking skills. It was a foolproof plan.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So they called Minghao’s mother for the recipe, and woke up at too fucking early a.m. on a weekend to buy the more unusual ingredients in a further away, bigger supermarket. Oh, the things Mingyu did for love.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mingyu stared at his pitiful dumpling, the sixth one with one hole too many on its side. He frowned as Minghao giggled and bumped his side. “You look so heartbroken,” Minghao said, wiping his hands on his apron with a smile. “It’s okay if it doesn’t look perfect, you know. We can still eat it, it’s still gonna taste just fine.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know it’ll taste fine. You made the filling after all,” Mingyu huffed and tore open the sad dumpling shell to toss the meat back into the bowl. “You know that’s not what I meant,” Minghao said softly, wrapping his arm around Mingyu’s waist from the side. Mingyu glanced down at him, only to be met with a fond and tender smile, if not a little amused.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know, I know,” Mingyu sighed and let Minghao pull him down to place a kiss on his cheek. “I just want it to be good. You didn’t stop talking about it all day yesterday.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It is good,” Minghao said, and Mingyu’s heart was close to bursting at the seams. Minghao’s smile was all radiant and warm and just so god damned cute and Mingyu might just get a heart attack. “I really appreciate you for doing this with me, you know that, right?” Another kiss. “Besides, this is supposed to be a relaxing activity. I’m having a lot of fun right now—“ “Watching me fail miserably—“ “Spending time with you. I miss this. We’ve both been busy lately. So just take it in stride, alright? If you want we can make some kimchi jjigae after this. I think it’ll go nicely with the dumplings.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mingyu was so tempted to pinch Minghao’s cheeks right there and then, but he remembered just in time that his fingers were covered in flour and egg. So since Kim Mingyu was an adult, perfectly capable of self control (this time), he settled with pressing a kiss to Minghao’s forehead instead, softly saying, “alright,” with a little smile.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mingyu pulled away, and saw the sweet smile on Minghao’s face slowly morph into the cheekiest shit eating grin his face was capable of. “Actually, I take it back,” Minghao giggled, “I do enjoy seeing you like this. You messing up in the kitchen is really... refreshing. I like being the better cook for once, I think we should do this more often.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oh.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Flour fingers be damned, Minghao had this coming.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He grabbed Minghao’s cheeks between his fingers and pinched, grinning wide. “Don’t get used to it,” he said. Minghao squealed and squirmed, smacking at Mingyu’s arms, but he was only successful in getting flour on his ears and hair. Mingyu switched to squeezing Minghao’s cheeks between his palms, laughing when it inadvertently produced a pout.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They ended up having dinner half an hour later than planned because Mingyu refused to stop kissing Minghao and “being a giant baby,” in Minghao’s fond words. Half the dumplings were misshapen, the kimchi jjigae was a touch too salty, and the new brand of beer they bought was actually terrible.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neither would change a thing.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Hoshi x Dino, platonic SoonHoon (fluff, light hurt/comfort)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Soonyoung blinked hard, his heartbeat still racing a mile a minute. “Okay?” He parroted back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Jihoon replied easily, already tearing into his next chicken wing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Soonyoung frowned, nails digging into his sweaty palms as his mind frantically tried to catch up. They were talking about the same topic, right? “I just told you I have a massive crush on your brother and ‘okay’ is the only thing you have to say?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I mean,” Jihoon said as he wiped his fingers on a napkin, “what else do you want me to say? Would you rather have me make a scene right here? Emotional yelling and bashing your face in with a chair maybe? Do you actually want me to oppose you or something?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Soonyoung had the decency to blush, at least. “No,” he mumbled, pouting. “It’s just... anticlimactic, I guess.” Jihoon rolled his eyes and stole a handful of fries from Soonyoung’s plate. “Not all of us need to be as dramatic as you are, idiot,” he said in between chews.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, but like,” Soonyoung huffed, “is it okay though? Really?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why wouldn’t it be?” Jihoon raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You’re an adult, and more importantly, Chan’s an adult. Honestly I don’t get why you’re telling me this before you even ask him out in the first place.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The bro code? I guess? I don’t know,” Soonyoung groaned. “Also, in my defense, I’ve seen what you did to his exes, Jihoon-ah.” Soonyoung felt a shiver run up his arms as he recalled a boy that Jihoon chased away with a metal baseball bat two years back. He would do anything in his power to never see the pure wrath in Jihoon’s eyes ever again. “You can’t blame me for having some self preservation.” Jihoon just shrugged. “They were trouble,” he said nonchalantly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Besides, I knew this was coming anyway,” he said, and Soonyoung choked on air. “Took you long enough, though. Thanks to your slow ass I lost 50000 won to Seokminie.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Y-you what?! Since when?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon paused to think. “Dunno, late last year maybe?” Soonyoung dropped his forehead onto the table with an audible thud. “Just kill me now. And make it quick, please,” he groaned.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon soullessly patted his hair before snatching Soonyoung’s last piece of chicken wing. “I’ve known you since we were in diapers, unfortunately. Just accept the fact that there’s nothing you can hide from me anymore,” he said, relishing in the dirty look Soonyoung threw when he noticed the empty plate.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Soonyoung sighed, and he didn’t say anything as Jihoon cleared his own plate. Soonyoung’s eyes were fixed onto his fidgeting fingers, refusing to look up at Jihoon.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What if,” he mumbled finally, “what if I’m trouble?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He heard Jihoon scoff. “You’re not.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m serious, Jihoon-ah,” Soonyoung whipped his head and met Jihoon’s firm gaze. “What if I hurt him?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chan had come to him last year, knocking on his apartment door unanounced one gloomy afternoon. The boy he was dating, his first serious relationship, left him for some other kid. Soonyoung hadn’t slept well that whole week, just thinking about the way Chan’s shoulders had trembled and his tear stained cheeks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Soonyoung felt tendrils of fear beginning to wrap around his throat just at the thought that he might see Chan like that again in the future, except this time, he would be the cause of it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He swallowed thickly as he studied Jihoon’s face, who hasn’t said anything. He was looking at his soda instead, twisting the straw between his fingers. He hummed quietly and Soonyoung wondered how Jihoon was always able to read him like an open book, while he was only able to guess what was on Jihoon’s mind, at best.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon thought about it for a moment longer, before replying, “you probably will, at some point.” His eyes softened as he moved his hand to pat the back of Soonyoung’s hand and continued, “but you’ll make things right again.” He said it with such conviction that Soonyoung was a little embarrassed, feeling a little undeserving of so much faith. He didn’t know how to reply.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jihoon sighed. “You really like Chan a lot, huh?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Soonyoung blinked and looked up to meet Jihoon’s eyes. He thought about Chan’s eyes crinkling softly as he smiled, and his loud, lively, unashamed voice calling Soonyoung, and how they both collapsed on the dance studio floor after a long hard session and laughed and Soonyoung never felt more alive.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I really do.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good,” Jihoon nodded, satisfied. “There’s no problem, then.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Soonyoung let out a breathy laugh and muttered, “thanks.” He felt infinitely lighter and he wondered if his heart was big enough to contain all this joy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That night he laid in bed, gathered his courage and typed a message.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><br/><em>&gt;hey chan</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>whats up hyung&lt;</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>&gt;u busy tmrw?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>just a morning class then im free&lt;</em>
    <br/>
    <em>why?&lt;</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>&gt;lets go get lunch</em><br/><em>&gt;i need to tell u something</em> </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Hoshi x Wonwoo (fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ten o’clock, guy on the bar, navy sweater,” Soonyoung said. All other three pairs of eyes shot up instantly.</p><p>The object of Soonyoung’s attention was the only person sitting at the bar. He was staring blankly at the beer in front of him, a finger absently trailing over the bottle’s label. He was wearing an oversized knitted sweater with black jeans, and a pair of round glasses perched neatly on his face. The contrast with Soonyoung’s own getup (tight leather pants, fitted black T-shirt, hair messy in that sexy kind of way) made Soonyoung want to laugh, a little.</p><p>The guy ran a hand through his hair, and it made Soonyoung remember the time when he had the biggest crush on the student council president back in highschool. The feelings in his chest felt similar to back then, somehow. What could he say, he really had a thing for cute, smart looking boys. He’d long since embraced that part of him.</p><p>“Who the hell wears a sweater to a club?” Minghao commented. He sounded slightly offended, and Soonyoung snorted a little at that. “That’s so out of place. He looks like he’s going to... I don’t know, a nice, quaint little coffeeshop instead,” Jun added, laughing lightly.</p><p>“Exactly,” Soonyoung grinned, eyes never leaving the man at the bar. “He looks so fluffy! See, he’s got sweater paws and everything. Fuck, that’s cute.”</p><p>“Of course you’d think that,” Chan replied, rolling his eyes. “Why are you so predictable, hyung. Nope. Don’t answer that, please. But really, I don’t know why you still bother going to clubs, considering your type. Wouldn’t it be more productive if you stalk the public library instead?”</p><p>Soonyoung spared Chan a brief deadpan stare. “Whatever. Can’t be choosers, or something,” he muttered with a wave of his hand. “That literally made no sense whatsoever,” Minghao quipped, and Soonyoung graciously ignored Chan’s annoying vindicated smirk.</p><p>“I call dibs,” Soonyoung declared instead. Chan rolled his eyes again before refilling Soonyoung’s shotglass with more soju. Soonyoung lifted it, drained it, slammed the glass back on the table, and muttered, “wish me luck, boys,” before walking away.</p><p>Soonyoung’s whole body buzzed with electricity. He leaned against the bar, and took one last deep breath before opening his mouth.</p><p>“You look lost,” Soonyoung said, and the guy’s eyes snapped like he had just noticed Soonyoung’s presence.</p><p>“Oh, me?” Sweater Paws mumbled, wide eyed. He looked even cuter up close, Soonyoung thought. Lean, smooth black hair, and bright, sharp eyes hidden behind thin frames. Soonyoung nodded, smiling in a way that he hoped was encouraging, and not too forceful. He really didn’t want the guy to be creeped out.</p><p>Sweater Paws shrugged before replying, “a friend dragged me here.” Soonyoung nodded sagely. “Ah, I get that,” he said, “that happens to me a lot. Except, I’m the one that does the dragging. Your friend seemed to be one of my kind, so allow me to apologize on their behalf.” He finished with a theatrical bow, and smiled when Sweater Paws laughed out loud. His shoulders seemed to relax a little after that.</p><p>“You’re not actually sorry, are you,” he said. It wasn’t really a question, but Soonyoung grinned as he replied anyway. “No, we’re usually not.” “Yeah, I figured as much,” Sweater Paws said, then offered his hand. “My name’s Wonwoo.” Soonyoung took it and beamed, and offered his own name in return, before sliding onto the next stool over. Wonwoo angled his body towards him a little, and Soonyoung pumped his fist internally. Small victories.</p><p>“Where’s your friend?” Soonyoung asked. “He’s dancing over there. It’s the tall idiot wearing blue striped shirt,” Wonwoo replied with a jerk of his chin towards the dancefloor. Sure enough, he was there when Soonyoung turned to look. Soonyoung vaguely remembered the guy stealing a few glances towards his table throughout the evening. He was cute too, but closer to Minghao’s type than his.</p><p>The music switched to a song he recognized, and it filled him with a surge of confidence. “What about you? Do you wanna dance with me?”</p><p>Wonwoo shook his head. “I saw you dancing earlier,” he said with a smile, and then sighed, “I can’t dance to save my life. I’m just gonna embarrass myself.”</p><p>“Oh, you were watching me, huh?” Soonyoung wiggled his eyebrows, but his ears were starting to feel warm. “At least half the club was,” Wonwoo said smoothly. “You’re easily the hottest guy this side of Seoul. Plus, you’re really good at dancing. It’s really hard to miss such a spectacle, don’t you think?”</p><p>Soonyoung threw his head back as he laughed, both from the unexpected forwardness and to mask his own reddening face. He needed to thank Minghao for lending him the pants later.</p><p>“You really don’t pull your punches huh, Wonwoo?” Soonyoung decided he liked the way Wonwoo’s name rolled off his lips. He’d like to try scream it at some point too, maybe.</p><p>Wonwoo shrugged, but there was a hint of mischief lurking behind his easy smile. Soonyoung’s favorite kind of challenge. “I’m just calling things how I see them,” Wonwoo said.</p><p>Suddenly, Wonwoo glanced past Soonyoung like something else caught his attention. He then pulled his left sleeve up to look at his watch. “Actually, I need to get going now,” he said, and Soonyoung’s face fell. “Do you have somewhere to be?” He asked.</p><p>“Not really,” Wonwoo replied, “It’s nothing against you, I promise. It’s just that I told my friend I’ll stay for two hours max, and time’s almost up. I guess I could stay longer, but I’m just petty like that. I just to spite my friends sometimes. You know, on principle. I’m sure you understand.” Soonyoung did understand, immediately thinking about his friend Jihoon. He and Wonwoo would get along just nicely, he thought.</p><p>Still, understanding didn’t make the disappointment any less bitter. Wonwoo gathered his things and stood up, saying, “it was nice talking to you, Soonyoung.” He was about to walk away when Soonyoung felt a surge of panic, like something good was slipping away from his fingers unless he managed to get a grip on it. Now or never.</p><p>“Can I have your number?” Soonyoung blurted.</p><p>He watched nervously as Wonwoo stared at him, and Wonwoo’s lips twitched upwards in amusement. “You sure? You can have any phone number in this room and you want mine?”</p><p>He may be older now, but Soonyoung felt like a teenager all over again, when the smallest gesture or comment felt like the biggest deal in his life. As if a single confession could either send his world crumbling down, or unlock the door to happiness.</p><p>“Well, I’m asking you right now, aren’t I?” Soonyoung said, reaching into his back pocket and offering his phone to Wonwoo. Wonwoo considered him for a while longer, before grinning and taking the phone. “Bold. I like that,” he said, and Soonyoung’s heart did a little backflip.</p><p>He felt silly, a little. And yet, the way their fingers brushed as he took his phone back and the smile Wonwoo offered him made him feel invincible.</p><p>Soonyoung walked back to his friends with a new number in his phone, and pointedly ignored their giggles and wiggled eyebrows.</p><p>Later that night, he laid down on his bed staring at his phone. He was only in his boxers and a worn down T-shirt, having thrown the stuffy leather pants in the general direction of the trash bin. He would probably pick them up again tomorrow. He had to send them for dry cleaning before returning them to Minghao after all, lest he taste the younger’s wrath.</p><p>He finally decided with a <em>“hey Wonwoo, this is Soonyoung from the club earlier”</em> and pressed send before he could change his mind any more. There was no reply even after an hour. He fell asleep shortly after, missing the buzz of his phone that came at seven a.m.</p><p>
  <em>&gt;Hey Soonyoung</em>
  <br/>
  <em>&gt;How does coffee date on Sat sound?</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Hoshi x Wonwoo (fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>New Messages from Soon&lt;3</p><p>&gt;wonu im so bored<br/>&gt;talk to meeeee<br/>&gt;wonuuuu<br/>&gt;the food isnt as good as i expected<br/>&gt;disappointed<br/>&gt;im tired<br/>&gt;if i have to make 1 (one) more small talk<br/>&gt;i will flip out<br/>&gt;id rather eat my shoe<br/>&gt;i hate everyone in this party<br/>&gt;theyre so full of themselves ughhhh<br/>&gt;im hiding now<br/>&gt;wonu<br/>&gt;oi asshole stop ignoring me<br/>&gt;i know u’ve read my msgs<br/>&gt;wonu u dare abandon me<br/>&gt;reply dammit<br/>&gt;Jeon Wonwoo</p><p>woah chill no need to bust out the full name&lt;<br/>it’s 4 pm here im still at work&lt;</p><p>&gt;u work at home wonu<br/>&gt;desperate time calls for blahblahblah<br/>&gt;im bored<br/>&gt;entertain me</p><p>mm yeah no&lt;</p><p>&gt;D:<br/>&gt;im dying<br/>&gt;what a headline that’ll be<br/>&gt;international superstar kwon soonyoung found dead behind a random stack of pool chairs in four seasons hotel los angeles<br/>&gt;his boyfriend, jeon wonwoo (25) under suspicion for abandonment, resulting in the victim’s untimely death<br/>&gt;more news in page 5</p><p>dramatic much&lt;</p><p>&gt;which part of im dying dont u get<br/>&gt;my makeup is melting<br/>&gt;why am i wearing a 3 piece suit<br/>&gt;its in the middle of fucking summer<br/>&gt;im boiling</p><p>oh u went w the tux?&lt;</p><p>&gt;not the tux<br/>&gt;the navy one<br/>&gt;wait i didnt tell u?</p><p>nope&lt;<br/>wanna see&lt;</p><p>Soon&lt;3 sends a picture</p><p>&gt;oh my makeup isnt too bad it’s holding up<br/>&gt;10/10 would bang</p><p>lol y r u the one scoring&lt;</p><p>&gt;r u saying u disagree</p><p>i didn’t say that&lt;<br/>ur selfie skills need work tho&lt;</p><p>&gt;ok<br/>&gt;wow<br/>&gt;the disrespect</p><p>just saying&lt;</p><p>&gt;have u even seen how much my polaroids sell for<br/>&gt;u should be thanking me i’m sending u pics<br/>&gt;free of charge</p><p>it’s still not a very good selfie&lt;<br/>look how off center ur face is&lt;</p><p>&gt;L I S T E N<br/>&gt;ur literally the last person on earth i want to hear that from<br/>&gt;have u seen the disaster that is ur dating app profile</p><p>jokes on u&lt;<br/>u were the one who swiped right&lt;<br/>also ur tie is crooked&lt;</p><p>&gt;and now im having regrets<br/>&gt;i didnt come here to be attacked<br/>&gt;fuck the tie<br/>&gt;also fuck u</p><p>sure&lt;<br/>after u get home maybe&lt;</p><p>&gt;i hate u</p><p>&lt;3&lt;3&lt;3&lt;<br/>how long have u been hiding&lt;<br/>isnt someone gonna notice?&lt;</p><p>&gt;idk<br/>&gt;dont care<br/>&gt;when is this gonna endddd</p><p>lol hang in there&lt;</p><p>&gt;im gonna ask my manager to sneak me out im so fucking done<br/>&gt;hang on imma call her</p><p>ok good luck&lt;</p><p>—</p><p>Wonwoo’s phone buzzes two hours later, just as he takes the last bite from his dinner. He taps on it, and puts the call on speaker. “I assume you’re no longer dying of boredom now?” He says in lieu of greeting.</p><p>Soonyoung’s giggle rings delicately from the other end of the line, and it’s the best thing Wonwoo has heard all day. “I’m still bored, but no longer in critical condition. I’ll live. I just finished showering. I’m so tired, fuck,” Soonyoung says, his voice straining like he’s stretching out his limbs.</p><p>His voice is muffled when he speaks next. “What time is it there? Did you eat yet?” He’s probably lying face down on a pillow, Wonwoo guesses. “It’s six fifteen. I just finished eating. I ordered jajangmyun,” Wonwoo replies as he pushes the empty bowl away. He picks up his phone, and relocates to the sofa. Soonyoung curses. “I want jajangmyun so fucking bad. Fuuuuuck.”</p><p>Wonwoo swings his legs over the arm rest and lets them dangle. He says, “don’t think about food now. You should get to sleep soon. You said you were tired.”</p><p>“I am,” Soonyoung says, then he yawns, as if to prove it. “I just miss you.”</p><p>Wonwoo grins, wide and toothy and stupid, and if his friends are around to see it they would be making whip noises at him. Wonwoo thinks he has it coming. “Miss you too,” he mutters.</p><p>They talk about everything and nothing. Soonyoung mostly complains about the earlier party, while Wonwoo updates him on their cats. It’s Wonwoo who talks the most by the end of it, as Soonyoung slowly drifts further away from consciousness.</p><p>Eventually there comes a point when Soonyoung stops replying, and instead Wonwoo can only hear the slow, soft breathing sounds from the other end of the line. He hangs up.</p><p>He falls asleep at eleven, and wakes up at seven the next morning to a few lines of messages and a selfie.</p><p>New Messages from Soon&lt;3</p><p>Soon&lt;3 sends a picture</p><p>&gt;just got to the airport<br/>&gt;see u soon!!!!<br/>&gt;cant wait aaaaaaaaaa<br/>&gt;love u!</p><p>see u at 5&lt;<br/>Have a safe flight&lt;<br/>love u too&lt;</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>